


Doing Stuff

by allmycomfortcharactersaredead



Series: Short Fics Inspired By Headcannons [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), POV Minerva McGonagall, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmycomfortcharactersaredead/pseuds/allmycomfortcharactersaredead
Summary: In which Peter is a bad liar, although admittedly not as bad as he used to be.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: Short Fics Inspired By Headcannons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210637
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Doing Stuff

Professor Minerva McGonagall stares down at the boy in front of her. She relishes the fact that this one is still rather small; the rest have shot through growth spurts like weeds, and scolding in an upward direction never does have the same effect. The boy in front of her is still a good head shorter than her, though, and--she relishes this too--admittedly terrified of her, even after six years.

“Mr. Pettigrew,” she starts, and the boy’s watery blue eyes twitch nervously. He’s alone today, which is new. She always tones it down a bit with Peter Pettigrew, as he’s never had the confidence of the other three, and she only wants to keep him in line, not petrify him.

As fun as it may be.

“Where is Mr. Black?” the professor asks. Better to figure it out one by one.

“Doing stuff,” the boy replies, his fingers twitching as he wrings his hands, his eyes darting this way and that.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” she mutters, knowing by now what vagueness means from these boys. “Where’s Mr. Lupin?” Remus Lupin is the one she can usually count on to be the most level-headed, although making him a Prefect was certainly a stretch on Albus’s part. He doesn’t get caught, at the very least, and after six long years of this that’s good enough for her.

“Trying to stop Sirius from doing the stuff.”

Of course he is. “And Mr. Potter?”

“Trying to stop Remus from stopping Sirius from doing the stuff,” Pettigrew responds, and how he can keep a straight face is beyond her.

“I see,” she says, eyeing the blond boy in suspicion. “And what are you doing here, Mr. Pettigrew?”

There’s almost no shame on Pettigrew’s face when he answers, and honestly it’s a job well done on the boys’ part that he’s not the same twitchy, anxious child he was at eleven. It would be easier for her that way, but admittedly much less entertaining. 

“I’m supposed to stop you from stopping James from stopping Remus from stopping Sirius from doing the stuff.”

The effort it takes for Minerva to keep her mouth from twitching into a smile should really win her a gold medal, if she’s honest. She opens her mouth to speak, although really she has no idea what to say to this. But she’s saved--or cursed, more like--when there’s a whoop of laughter around the corner and three pairs of footsteps thundering the stone floors.

Sirius Black’s barking laughter is instantly recognizable (Minerva is shocked that the sound doesn’t haunt her nightmares by now), and it’s followed immediately by his gangly, teenage boy figure streaking down the corridor. Chasing after him is Remus Lupin, close on his tail but just not close enough, yelling out calls of “Padfoot!” as he runs. He shoots the professor an apologetic grimace, and she can barely keep from smiling. And then there’s James Potter, bringing up the rear and nearly tripping over his own legs. He spots Pettigrew and Minerva, and flashes his huge trophy-winning smile at them.

“C’mon, Wormtail, let’s go!” he cries, his glasses almost falling off his face, his hair wild as ever. 

Pettigrew glances at her sheepishly, but his face is so much more alive, so much happier than it was a few moments ago. She sighs.

“Go.”

The boy grins and runs off.


End file.
